Days of Our Rebellion
by HoldoutTrout
Summary: A humorous look at what the members of the Rebel Alliance like to create in their spare time. Somewhat HL, barely preESB.


**Days of Our Rebellion**

Disclaimer: If I owned Star Wars, the universe would be a lot weirder. Or at least more disjointed.

Author's note: This fic was actually inspired by an X-Files episode. I'll give 10,000 bonus points if someone guesses which one. Just barely pre-ESB. Some things aren't meant to happen…yet.

* * *

Rogue Squadron was bored. Until their vehicles were adapted to Hoth's cold atmosphere, there wasn't much for them to do after the riding beasts were called in for the night. They were all broke from playing too much Sabacc with Han, and didn't even have the joy of watching the infamous non-couple fight, since Han was on a mission. 

Luke sighed, changing the position of his legs in front of him, and made a half-hearted effort to read the report he had in front of him.

"Put that down!" a very energetic voice called from across the hangar. "Don't you know that work is bad for you?"

It was Wes Janson, and he was beaming.

"Guess what, gentlemen? We've officially been here long enough for the artistes to set up shop."

Luke and Wedge brightened a little at the news. Even Hobbie looked a little less dour than usual. The Rebellion had a smattering of creative beings who liked to write, draw, and generally inflict their creativity on the other beings around them. While not particularly talented, their "publications" usually made for entertaining reading.

"Issues of the latest 'Rebellion Press,' hot off the presses." Wes tossed each person a copy.

"You lied, Janson," Hobbie said as he grabbed one out of the air. "These are as cold as my numb fingers."

"And for that you can thank our lovely Lady Hoth." Wes took a seat, leaning against the other support strut to Luke's X-Wing and said, "I suggest you take a look at the genius that is page eleven."

The other men diligently flipped to the recommended page.

Luke scanned it fastest. "Wes, either you are very stupid or have no fear of death."

Wedge whistled. Or tried to, as his lips were slightly stiff from the cold. "He is a pilot. Maybe he's just insane."

On the page was a comic, depicting charicatures of Vader and his lackeys, as well as prominent figures from the Rebellion. This included Mon Mothma, General Riekeen, Princess Leia, Luke, and Han, as well as the entire Rogue Squadron and various supporting personnel. The idea appeared to be that Vader was looking for them—ineffectually, of course—while the Rebellion appeared to be caught in some sort of holodrama about the various characters' personal lives. It was titled, "Days of our Rebellion," and was co-authored by one Wes Janson and a female name no one recognized.

"It came to me last night. What we needed to boost morale was a good way to laugh at ourselves. So I got my date to draw everything out, and we submitted it just before the deadline." He was obviously waiting for a reaction.

"Wes…" Luke shot a look at Wedge.

A pilot down the line finished reading the comic and laughed. He was soon joined by the rest of the line. Janson beamed.

Wedge shrugged. "It is funny."

No one thought it was very funny the next morning when it was announced that the Council had forbidden resources to be used for entertainment purposes. It appeared that Mon Mothma and Leia had pushed the measure through (theirs had arguably been the most unflattering depictions in the first issue). But, to the delight of most, the publications continued to circulate and new issues eventually made their way around the base, each featuring a new "Days of our Rebellion," comic. None after the first one had any author attached to it ("Plausible deniability," Wes assured Luke) and the quality and style of the art varied widely one issue to the next. ("Chera got dressed down by her superior and possibly dumped me.")

Luke knew it was an issue day when he stepped out into the hangar one bitterly cold Hoth morning and found a cluster of pilots laughing. As he approached, one of them stuffed something behind his back quickly.

Luke sighed. "It's okay. Give it here."

The pilot handed the latest issue over. Luke scanned it. Last week's had been bad enough, with a generic pilot who looked an awful lot like Wes making a bet that the world would end if Han and Leia ever got together. The strip ended with a passionate kiss between the two, but fortunately Leia hadn't seen it, being gone on a mission—with Han. Luke just hoped no one would be suicidal enough to show her. This week's had a puzzled Vader receiving word of a big explosion where the latest Rebel base was supposed to be.

Luke started laughing.

Just then, he heard, "What's so funny?" from behind him. It was Han.

"You're back!" Luke exclaimed, hurriedly putting the comic behind his back.

"Got in late last night. What've you got there?" He held out his hand. "Come on, kid. What is it?"

Luke handed the copy over slowly. Han looked at it, puzzled. "I don't get it. These are usually hysterical, so I had Hobbie save them for me. Why'd you hide it, anyway?" He tossed the comic back.

Luke thought fast. "Oh, um…well…that's why we were laughing, because Wes—I mean the anonymous author—appears to have lost his touch recently. The last two issues haven't been any good, really."

Han nodded slowly and dubiously. "Sure. Well, if you see Your Worship, tell her I have something she left on board, would you?"

Luke nodded quickly. Han left and Luke breathed a sigh of relief. Now if he could only convince Hobbie not to hand over last week's.

* * *

"I told you, he already got them from me this morning!" 

"But you don't understand. If he sees that comic, he might mention it to her!"

"Mention what to whom?"

It was not Luke's day. First Han and then Leia surprising him at just the wrong moment. He turned slowly.

"Ah—"

"Oh, you know Luke, Princess. Always trouble with some girl or another." This came, helpfully, from Hobbie, who looked as honest as he always did. This was considerably more honest than Janson had ever looked in his life.

Leia looked skeptical, but didn't press for a better answer. She said something about having a meeting and started down the corridor again.

"Oh, wait. Leia! Han said you left something on the Falcon."

"What?"

"Something on the Falcon. He said you could come get it later."

"Oh. Thanks."

She turned the bend and Luke sagged in relief. He decided he was done trying to chase after officially non-existent copies of comics and renewed his commitment to long, cold patrols on the planet's surface where rampaging princesses and smugglers couldn't get to him.

* * *

"Hello?" 

Leia heard muttered cursing coming from the Falcon's common room. That was odd, considering most of the cursing on the Falcon seemed to be done in the engine compartments.

She entered and found Han trying to sweep several issues of the "Rebellion Press," off the floor.

"Oh good! More came out while we were gone."

Han stopped trying to whisk away the issues and stared up at her.

"Weren't you one of the ones who tried to ban this junk?"

Leia smiled. "We knew the only way to make sure there would be more would be to ban it. This way, we get all the gossip we might otherwise miss, plus it's great for morale." She frowned. "It's funny, because Mon usually saves me the issues when I'm on missions, but she didn't mention any new ones when I saw her this morning."

Han now looked a little nervous. "Oh, well, Luke said the new ones weren't that great." He tried to nonchalantly pull free the second-to-last issue from Leia's hand. It didn't work.

Leia opened the issue right to the comic. She blanched. Without a word Han handed her the latest issue. She read that one, too, and turned to Han very quietly.

In a low voice she said, "This isn't funny."

He couldn't help himself. He smirked. "Because it's a little too close to the truth?"

"Flyboy, if these things were true, half the base would've dated you already."

Han grinned. "And who says that isn't true?"

Leia gave him a look. Han took the issue out of her hands.

"It's not funny," she protested, "because…because it's so flippant about…everything!"

"I thought that was the point." Han tossed the issue on the holochess table, all without looking away from Leia.

She found herself blushing.

"Admit it. You just don't think it's funny because sometimes you're actually attracted to me."

Leia shook her head and took a step backward. Han stepped with her.

"No, Captain. You just think anything female has to be attracted to you."

Han didn't reply to that, just took another step forward, backing Leia into the wall. "Then why are you here?"

"Luke said you had something to give me."

Han leaned in closer. "You left a datapad here. But I don't think that's the only thing you want." He moved to kiss her.

"Han!" It was Luke, calling from the ramp. As Han jumped, Leia ducked under his arms and practically fled down the ramp.

Han growled. "What is it, kid?"

"Our patrol starts in two minutes!"

Han sighed. "I'll be right down."

Maybe it really wasn't a good idea to go around trying to kiss princesses. The universe seemed dead set against it, after all.


End file.
